Pirates' Revenge
by Chrysalism88
Summary: Captain Hook is a man driven by revenge, but now there's more gripping motivation to wreck havoc on Rumpelstiltskin. Not only did the crocodile murder the love of his life, but he took his children from him, Jack and Melody Jones. Until one fateful day, where the twins are released from their prison after several centuries of total isolation and transported to the modern world…
1. Memories

**A/N: S'up fellow Oncers! We've recently posted a Percy Jackson fanfiction and decided to post our second one here. This is a joint account between Goldie and Rory (our writing nicknames). I (Goldie) can be found on a separate account called Radioactive88 and if you'd like to check that out, I will not object XD. Rory's other account can be found ArgentumAurora.**

 **Anyway, this story's about Captain Hook's twin children with Milah. The plot will start out roughly the same (Milah's fate), but just so you know now, the main plot will be shifted around with the introduction of these original characters: Jack and Melody Jones. This is the prologue about the twins' births and a few childhood memories, then the next installment will start off the main plot line :). Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **Prologue**

 **Nobody's Perspective**

"I can't do this! Killian, I cannot believe you're making me do this!" the dark-haired woman screamed, tossing her head back in agony. Beads of sweat were rolling down her ashen face and she grasped her lover's hand tightly enough to break a bone or two.

He, inconspicuously trying to pry her hand off his his, crooned, "You _can_ do this, love. Pirate's honor." He flashed her one of his trade-mark grins. "You're strong, my Milah. That's part of the reason I fell in love with you."

The medic stood up from where he was kneeling beneath her. "You've got to push, m'lady. The baby's almost here."

She screeched in response but followed his request, pushing with all of her might. A loud wailing then rang through the air and the medic gathered the wriggling baby into a bundle of blankets.

"It's a boy," he said warmly, lifting him up for both parents to see. "A handsome baby boy." The couple exchanged a look of blissful happiness and love and Killian dove in for a kiss with Milah while the medic carefully placed the baby down on the nearest cleared surface.

Another contraction surged through Milah's stomach and she shrieked in surprise. "What's happening to me? I just had my baby!"

Killian looked to the medic with wild-eyed panic but the medic remained mostly calm. "Ah, well, this is a bit unexpected."

" _What?_ " the couple yelled in unison, fearing for the worst.

"You're having another baby," the medic said quite cheerfully, crouching back down into the proper position. "Get ready to push again, m'lady."

"Why was I not informed of thiiiiiiis? Killian, how could you do this to me?" Milah groaned into Killian's leather-clad shoulder. "I can't do this, I can't do it again. Two babies? I don't have the energy, Killian, I just _don't_."

Killian could think of no other comfort then, "You already did it, love, so I _know_ you can do it again. Because, ready or not, that baby's coming."

"Push!" the medic ordered and her body heaved with the effort. "Push!" She threw her head back and cried out. "You're so close, m'lady, one more push!"

Using the last sum of energy she had left, she contracted her muscles and pushed with everything in her, gasping in relief as another shrill crying filled the air. She did it.

"You did it, love!" Killian cheered ecstatically, capturing her lips with his again. She melted into his hold.

"It's a girl," the medic informed after a quick examination. "Congratulations, a beautiful baby girl." The couple shared another look of intense joy.

Finally breaking out of the kiss, Milah told the medic, "Give me my babies, please. I want to hold them."

Smiling gently, the medic reached over and picked up the boy, then passed over the squirming bundles over to their mother. There were hints of dark brown hair on the boy's little head and his eyes were revealed to be a very, very dark blue- almost black. Fuzzy black hair dressed the girl's tiny pale head. Milah let out a gasp as the baby girl opened her big, piercing blue eyes.

"Oh, Killian, she has your eyes and he has your nose, and your chin!"

Killian beamed down at the three of them, his eyes stretching almost impossibly wide as his daughter's tiny hand wrapped around his index finger. In that moment, he realized how much these children meant to him, and vowed to do everything in his power to protect them.

"What should we name them, love?" he asked sweetly. "Killian, Jr. for the boy?"

"Oh, stop it," she laughed. "Let him be an individual. How about Jack Jones?" Upon seeing his puppy-dog gaze, she relented, "Jack _Killian_ Jones. And I always vowed if I had a daughter . . . Melody. Melody Milah Jones."

He nodded once, and smiled as she handed his children to him. He was unsure at first, but it felt _right_ with them in his arms. His daughter's bitty hand latched onto his finger again, and he promised to never let them go.

 **Three years later . . .**

 **An Eventful Day**

"Momma, Momma!" tiny little Melody Jones shouted from the highest point of the ship . . . the crow's nest. "Look how high I climbed! I'm so brave, right Momma?"

Milah nearly had a heart attack upon sight of her. "Oh, baby, come down!" When her young daughter began to obey, she quickly corrected, "No, _no!_ Stay there, baby, _stay there!_ "

Confusion written across her childishly innocent face, the little girl stayed put. Desperately, Milah went to call for her lover when she realized after they had tethered the ship to the nearest port, he had gone out for an errand along with her son.

"Oh God, oh God," she muttered under her breath, raking her fingers through her thick waves of black hair. "What am I going to do?" She inwardly debated whether to ask a crew member for help but decided against it. Today was their day off and not only were most gone, but she didn't want to ask for help involving _her_ daughter. She could do this herself.

"Momma, I'm a bird!" the girl yelped in exuberance, stretching out her arms as wide as they could go and inching over to the edge of the basket of the crow's nest.

"MELLIE, STAY THERE!"

 **Meanwhile, out in the town . . .**

Killian Jones strolled into the pub with his small son tucked safely away in his arms, passing him off to one of the crew members once he spotted his target. "Daddy, where are you going?" Jack whimpered as Killian began his predatory prowl toward the man.

"Don't worry, son, stay with him," Killian tossed over his shoulder soothingly. "Daddy's just going to make us a little richer, that's all."

Making sure his crew member ensured that his son could no longer see him, he tapped the man on the shoulder, waiting patiently for him to turn around, then punched him in the nose. He watched in satisfaction as he collapsed to the ground and kneeled down beside him, saying lowly, "I believe you owe me some money."

The man looked back at him with eyes alive with terror. "I-I didn't t-think-"

"You didn't think I'd find you?" Killian finished, amused. "Word travels fast, Matthews, and I'd appreciate it if you handed over the loot now. I would like my debt _repaid_."

The man with surname Matthews scooted away from him and stuttered, "P-p-please, d-don't . . ." It was a ruse. Matthews lunged forward and knocked Killian to the ground, punching him sharply in the throat then the eye. "I'm not givin' the money back, you scoundrel! A lowlife pirate like you doesn't deserve it!"

With most eyes of the pub watching now, Killian threw another punch and the fight was on.

Little Jack disentangled himself from the burly crew member's arms and scampered onto the bar counter. He gasped as he saw his daddy struggling on the ground, being attacked by another man. Determinedly, he darted down the entire length of the counter and searched for anything that could help his daddy.

A glass. Somebody's glass of rum that they weren't paying attention to now that a fight broke loose. The glass was big and unwieldy in his three-year-old hands but he managed to pick it up, and with a giant heave, tossed it right at the opponent's head.

It shattered against his skull and wrenched him to the side, giving Killian the opportunity to take advantage and best him. Since the man was now dazed, Killian roughly searched his pockets and took out a sack of coins.

"Ah, here we go, thanks for the payment," he said sarcastically, picking up his son and leading him out of the bar with his crew member skulking behind, embarrassed that the child got away from him.

Killian couldn't have been more proud but he decided not to display that at first. "Jack, when I tell you to stay with a crew member, you do it. I am the captain of this ship and your father, and you're going to listen to me." Jack's enormous dark brown eyes filled to the brim with tears and Killian held the boy closer against him. "Oh, hush now, son. You're a brave young lad and even though you disobeyed me, I'm proud of you."

Jack peeked up from where he had buried his head into Killian's collar and blinked his tears away. "You're . . . you're proud of me?"

Killian flashed him one of his most winning smiles and Jack couldn't help but smile back. "Of course I am, lad. I always am. You're my courageous, clever little boy and one day, you're going to make a fearsome pirate and an excellent captain to the Jolly Roger. I daresay, maybe as good as me!" he finished playfully.

"Really?" Jack couldn't have grinned wider. "I won't let you down, Daddy!"

"That's my boy!" Killian roared and they laughed together. "Come now, let's see what your mother and sister have gotten up to."

 **Meanwhile . . .**

Milah was nearly to the crow's nest when a gust of wind threatened to unhinge her from the web of ropes. "Momma, I'm a bird, I can get down myself," Melody sulked.

"Stay there, baby," she repeated as a soft mantra, more to herself than her daughter.

She finally reached the top and picked up her daughter to clutch as tightly as she could to herself. "Momma, you're squeezing me too tight, I won't be able to fly now."

Milah half-laughed and half-suppressed a sob. "Melody Milah Jones, don't ever do that to me again, okay? You're never _ever_ to climb up this high without permission _again_ , you got that?!"

"But I'm good at climbing," her daughter whined. "I did it and I didn't even _fall_."

"But you could have!" Milah worked to keep the anger out of her tone. "You could have fallen and I would have lost my baby girl!"

 _That_ got to Melody and fat tears rolled down her cheeks. "I-I'm sorry!"

"I know, Mellie, I know." Her daughter in a safe grip, Milah worked her way down the ropes, fear of dropping her daughter eating at her every step of the way down. When she was nearly to the deck, she caught a first glimpse of her lover and son boarding the ship.

"Milah, what happened?" Killian called as she took a leap of faith and landed, luckily, on her feet. He rushed forward and took Mellie from her, the girl still crying slightly. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" he asked the bitty girl, bouncing her in his arms.

"Momma wouldn't let me fly," she replied sullenly before sticking her head below his chin. He stroked at her shiny black curls, smirking at Milah as she picked up and greeted her son.

Pointing up at the crow's nest, Milah explained, "She climbed all the way up there when I wasn't looking. I had to go and get her, even when she calmly told me she could climb down herself, which I'm sure she could've. . . ."

Killian's eyebrows met his hairline and he tried to bite back a grin. "Mellie climbed all the way up there by herself?" Nudging his daughter's head up, he crooned, "That's my girl! My girl loves adventures, doesn't she? Bravest, boldest, most fearless girl in all the realms!"

Mellie giggled wildly and Milah glowered at him, cupping the back of her son's head at the same time and caressing his dark locks. "Don't encourage her."

"Right, right." Sobering up, he tapped Mellie on her little freckle-splashed nose and chided, "I know you're already ready and raring to be a pirate, but you can't climb up there without permission because you're too young. You could have been hurt or killed and I don't know what we would have done." He sternly looked into her eyes, the bright shade of crystal blue identical to his. "Do you understand me?"

Mellie nodded sadly and wrapped her arms around his neck. She hated it when he scolded her and Killian knew it- she was a daddy's girl through and through, just like Jack was a daddy's boy. Milah didn't mind, though, because she knew how much her children adored her.

"Our son helped me in a fight," Killian boasted and Jack beamed. "He bested a man in one move."

Milah was impressed. "What a resourceful boy!" She ruffled up his already messy dark brown hair. "Just like his daddy." Killian bit his lip seductively and she winked at him, their children entirely oblivious.

"Our children will make the best pirates," Killian sighed happily after they settled them into their beds.

"I agree." Their children were pushed from their minds, though, as they got their treasured alone time. Killian lifted her up so she could wrap her legs tightly around his waist and she giggled, diving in for a passionate kiss.

His hands gradually lowered until she broke off the kiss and friskily smacked him on the arm. "You dirty pirate."

Killian summoned up the best "smolder" he could. "Ah, yes, but I prefer _devilishly handsome_ pirate." Their lips met again in a swirl of lust and he carried her to their shared cabin, kicking the door closed behind him.

 **Three years later . . .**

 **Sixth Birthdays**

"Happy birthday, children of mine," Killian said happily as they ran up to hug him.

"What you got for me, Daddy?" Jack asked without any attended impudence but Killian arched an eyebrow all the same. "Sorry."

He sat them both down on their beds and told them, "All right, I'm putting my faith in you two here. Your mother doesn't agree with me, but I believe the two of you are ready for this. And I really hope I'm right, because if I'm not, your mother will kill me." They grinned at him, but he was only half-kidding.

Killian reached behind him and revealed two short swords, the corners of his mouth lifting as their eyes swelled to the size of moons. "You can't be a pirate without a sword, after all," he pointed out.

He gingerly handed the weapons to the two of them and they handled them surprisingly carefully. "Now, I know it's not exactly smart to give six-year-olds swords, but-"

"Yay!" Mellie cheered at the top of her lungs, jumping forward to swing her sword around, listening to the pleasant _whooshing_ sound as it cut through the air. Jack followed her lead, also swiping away at invisible demons.

Doubts began to fester themselves in Killian's head but it was too late- it would break their hearts if he took the swords away _now_. They were _his_ children and they both possessed his coordination and cleverness and he _knew_ they could handle this, however young they were.

Their swords clanged together as they play-fought, both laughing like little maniacs. "Those are _my_ pirates," he mumbled under his breath, leaning back on Jack's bed to watch the show, his heart blooming with pride.

 **Three years later . . .**

 **A Damned Storm**

"Hold on!" Killian bellowed to his family as another squall of rain pattered down on the ship, a boom of thunder rolling afterwards. The waves of the ocean struck the Jolly Roger from all sides and the ship groaned as she took another nose dive forward.

Killian was at the wheel with his nine-year-old son, the two of them ensuring the ship stay upright as Milah and their daughter frantically tugged and released the rope of the mainsail to keep the ship on track out of the storm and use the winds to their advantage.

"This is bloody madness!" Mellie shouted as her feet slipped out from under her and she landed hard onto the deck, whilst still tenaciously holding onto the rope. The entire crew's clothes were clinging uncomfortably to their skin and their hair plastered against their faces as the rain poured down even harder than before. Milah couldn't even take her hands off the rope for a second to help her up.

"How much longer can the Jolly Roger take?" cried Jack to his father, spinning the wheel violently to the left on his Killian's command.

"We're making it out of this damned storm," Killian replied, determination written all over his face. "That's a promise."

Killian's resolve strengthened even further as his son said whole-heartedly, "I trust you, Dad. Let's do this."

Things took a turn for the worse as the strongest wave yet smashed into the side of the ship, tiling it precariously to the left. Much to Mellie's horror, her momma's hands were ripped from the rope as the unsteady angle of the ship threw her overboard, down into the relentless ocean. " _Momma!_ "

Killian and Jack's attention was captured by that strangled scream and they yelled out as Milah torpedoed into the ocean. " _No!_ " they roared in unison, Killian forcing Jack to take the wheel so he could find where his wife landed in the sea.

Mellie ordered to the nearest crew mate, "Take the damn rope!" and the pure, unadulterated authority in her tone allowed for no arguments. She scanned the unimaginably rough waters as best as she could through the pouring rain and finally spotted a flash of white- her mother's pale skin. "I'm coming, Momma!"

Killian only had the time to shout, "What the hell are you doing, Mellie?!" before the young girl jumped over the side of the ship into the brutal seas in search of her momma. "MELLIE!"

Mellie's entire world twisted around her as she punctured the ocean's tumultuous surface into the depths below. It was raging all around her and the endless blows of the waves attempted to force the air out of her lungs. The water propelled her above the surface for a mere moment, allowing her to suck in more beloved oxygen, before sucking her back under.

It was dark and scary and confusing under there, but she stuffed away her fear for the sake of her momma. She desperately swam downwards and searched all around her, but to no avail.

Until . . . A swarm of black caught her eye, the floating waves of her momma's locks of hair. Using her last bout of energy, she lunged forward and reached underneath her momma's arms and managed to haul her above the surface with all of her strength summoned up into that single action. Blinking out the nasty salt water as she struggled to stay above the surface, she screeched, "I'VE GOT HER!"

Her momma was unconscious and thus a deadweight, and Killian knew his daughter didn't have the strength to carry her for much longer, so he leaped overboard. Jack, commanding the nearest crew member to take the wheel, scavenged for a stray rope. After finding the longest rope he could find, he tied it around the main mast in the tightest knot his father had ever taught him. Then, he tossed it overboard along with his family. "Grab the rope!"

Killian wrapped his arms around both his daughter and his lover in an iron tight hold as his daughter hugged the both of them for security, and he caught the rope firmly as it landed near them. "Pull us up, son!"

Jack, along with several of burly crew members, yanked the rope backwards and backwards as his family rose up and up. At the last moment, as Killian unceremoniously shoved his lover onto the deck, Mellie slipped from his grip and began the terrifying free fall back down into the ocean. "Help!"

Jack's protective instinct swelled up and he reached forward to catch her just in the nick of time. "Hold on, Mellie! I've got you!" Killian rushed to his son's side and pulled his daughter up into the embrace of safety, the three of them collapsing onto the slippery deck at the same time.

And that was when the rain stopped. The Jolly Roger had reached the very edge of the storm and _survived_. Killian, once giving his children an cursory once-over, crawled to his lover's unmoving side. "Come on, Milah," he begged, "stay with me."

There were a few moments of heart-stopping silence until the ebony-haired woman coughed up her lungful of water and gasped for breath. "Oh, Milah!" His chest about to burst open with relief, he enveloped her in an enormous hug, welcoming his children into the embrace with open arms.

Milah, once she gathered her wits about her, backed away from the hug only to zero in on Mellie. Mellie expected boatloads of praise and kisses, but that didn't _exactly_ happen. "Melody Milah Jones, if you risk your life for me like that again, then you won't be leaving your cabin until you're thirty." Mellie's jaw dropped open in indignation.

Apparently her dad decided to throw in his two cents with, "I agree, Melody. You nearly gave me a heart attack when you jumped over the edge like that. During a bloody raging storm, at that. Do that again, and you'll answer to _me_."

Jack sympathetically rubbed her trembling, freezing cold shoulders, but she wasn't having any of that. She scrambled to her feet, self-righteously outraged, and argued, "Momma, I saved your bloody life! What the hell do you want from me? So what, I risked my life? I saved you, and that's all that matters! And you're complaining about it? _Bloody_ hell. . . ."

Milah's lips parted in shock and Killian yanked her down next to him with a resounding thud and she flinched at the impact. He didn't appear too thrilled. "Don't ever talk to your mother like that."

Her eyes shone with unshed tears and she pouted, "It isn't _fair_. If I hadn't jumped in, then all of us would be singing a _very_ different tune right now."

Before either parent could respond, Jack cut in on his sister's behalf, "C'mon, she just wanted to save you, Momma, and she did. Is that really so bad? Give her a break, please, for me." Mellie gave him a watery, grateful smile as a thanks.

Milah clutched them both to her and Killian stroked his daughter's hair, feeling slightly guilty for losing his temper with her when she'd only tried to do the right thing. "You're right, my boy. But please, Mellie, while I thank you for saving my life, I don't want you to risk your own like that. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you when you were risking your life for _me_. But, believe me, I am grateful." She pressed a kiss down on her son's head then, not wanting to leave him out.

"And you, Jack," Killian mentioned because he knew Milah was unconscious when he also played his role in saving her. "You were very smart to use the rope like that and you saved the three of us, especially your sister when she almost fell again. Even though you were reckless, Mellie, I'm proud of the both of you."

They, taking him by surprise, barrelled over with a hug and he let them. He was so close to losing his lover and daughter, and if the Jolly Roger hadn't made it through the storm, then he could have lost them all. "Don't you two worry, nothing can split us apart. They wouldn't dare." The four of them laughed at his last comment and Milah beamed at him. "Ah, my brave little pirates. I'll never let you go."

If only that were true.

 **A/N: Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let us know!**


	2. World off Its Axis

**A/N: Hey, how you doin'? Yeah, someone's been rewatching "Friends" on Netflix . . . if you haven't seen it, you NEED to check it out! This is Goldie here, but it comes from both of us when we say: thank you so much for the reads, favorites, follow, and a special thanks to MyFandoms7 for being our first reviewer! We're so glad you're enjoying this so far!**

 **Now, this chapter includes the death of Milah, so that may be considered a trigger warning. I know what it feels like, because my dad actually unexpectedly passed away about two years ago when I was two weeks away from turning thirteen years old (I just turned fifteen). So, this was a little hard for me to work on, but writing is all about drawing from one's own experiences to create something meaningful, and I hope our combined efforts was enough to bring such meaning to you readers.**

 **Now, her death aligns basically how it happened in the show, but the plot will change by the end of this chapter. Anyway, without much further ago, please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **Chapter 1: World off Its Axis**

 **One year later . . .**

 **Ten years after birth**

 **Melody's Perspective**

"Surrender, you wench!" my brother shouted as he gallantly leaped forward to block the downward swipe of my sword. We were below deck so our mother couldn't scold us for our harsh language.

"Never, gremlin, not when I'm winning!" I twirled in and elbowed him in the chest, knocking him back a few steps.

His brown eyes sparkled with excitement and his cheeks were red from exertion. "That's "Captain" to you." He dodged another one of my attacks and nearly struck the sword out of my hands. I moved back to gain some distance from him.

"In your wildest dreams," I teased and his dark eyebrows rose in a way that we both inherited from our father. He took offense to that.

Jack propped himself up on one of the barrels so he could pompously look down at me and I rolled my eyes. "One day, I _will_ be the captain of the Jolly Roger and mark my words 'cause I'll make you my cabin girl!"

I took a mighty kick at the barrel and he toppled over, landing on his side. His dark brown, almost black hair fell in a flop over his eyes. Embarrassed, he scrambled to his feet and rose his sword to the ready. "I'll have my very own ship, brother, because _I_ don't need one handed down to me! I can get my own, thank you very much." I smiled smugly at him as he searched for an appropriate response.

"Well, sister," he sneered, "it won't be anywhere _near_ as brilliant as the Jolly Roger!" Our battle commenced, more fiercely this time so there wasn't any room to trash talk.

There was a noise, then, a noise that startled us out of our game. A strange voice yelling above deck- yelling at our _momma_.

 _Uh uh,_ I thought angrily. _I don't THINK so_.

Jack heard it the same time as me and growled, "He'll regret the day he was born." I strongly agreed. Jack was very protective of his family, as was I.

Sword in hands, we took the stairs up two at a time and I steeled myself for confrontation. I was almost to the top, a little ahead of Jack, when a crewman placed a hand on my head and pushed me down to a squatting position. I looked at him questioningly and he placed a finger to his lips. He looked rather frightened, so I signaled for Jack to stay down next to me.

I peeked up from the top of the staircase to see an odd, reptilian man covered in what looked like were scales. A crocodile, yes, that was what he looked like! Jack and I exchanged a look of sheer disgust- the thing wasn't even human, yet he was yelling at our momma!

He was shouting at Momma, saying something about a person named _Bae._ The man was _clearly_ insane because he said something about that person being their son. I was deeply confused. Turning to Jack, I mouthed, 'Who's Bae?' but he only shrugged, equally bewildered.

Anger boiled inside of me as he continued on with his harsh words. Nobody talked to my momma that way- I didn't know why my daddy didn't defend her. So, I did. I scrambled to my feet and ran over to stand guard in front of my momma. "Don't talk to my momma like that!"

Jack was hot on my tail and jumped in front of the both of us, sticking out his sword defensively. "Yeah, leave her alone!"

The monster's eyes stretched out as wide as they could go. "And who the hell might you two be?"

 _Rude_ , I thought. "I'm her _daughter_ , you slimy crocodile! So bugger off!" A firm hand dug into my shoulder and I glanced up to see my daddy giving me a warning look. He pulled me closer into him and reached out for Jack to reign in, but Jack dodged his hand.

"And I'm her son," said Jack proudly. "So I'm going to protect her . . . from people like _you!"_ Momma looked down at us both with honor only a parent could feel and I swelled up inside.

The crocodile's expression turned into something unmistakably dangerous and I hid my face into my daddy's leather coat. Even Jack fearfully backed up into Daddy, and Daddy placed a hand on both of our shoulders comfortingly.

"You've had more children?" the crocodile asked my momma, the deadly undertone clearly audible. "With a different man?"

"Yes, I have." She stood boldly and without fear and I couldn't help but smile proudly- that was my mother. But what in the world did he mean by _more_ children?!

Then it occurred to me. _Different_ man? Implying that . . . she was once with _him?_ I scrunched up my nose in disgust; how could my mother have ever been with a man- no, _creature_ like that? Was that what he meant by their _son?_

The crocodile snarled, "You let him go and had more children. You let him go."

My head was reeling. He was acting like my mother was the bad one, but no, it was obviously him! How dare he accuse my mother of being a bad person? He was wrong!

Momma tearfully replied, "My misery was clouding my judgement and I will never apologize for having my children." I smiled once more, so, so proud of my mother.

Ignoring the last part, the crocodile hissed, "And why were you so miserable?" I mentally replied, _Because, idiot, she was with your scaly self!_

She leaned in and said with as much feeling as she could muster, "Because I never loved you!"

There was a single moment of silence, tension and raging emotions charging the air. My heart beat so quickly and loudly that I was positive that everyone could hear it- or at the very least my daddy and brother, because of their close proximity.

And then, I witnessed the worst thing I had ever seen before in my short life. I had seen raiding, plundering, the bloodiest of sword fights . . . but they didn't come close to this. The evil crocodile shoved his hand forward into my momma's chest and ripped out her _heart_.

"MOMMA!" Jack and I screeched in terror the same time my daddy shouted, "Milah!" I, along with Daddy and Jack, dove forward in a futile attempt to attack the beast but he sent the three of us flying back into pillars, magically wrapping ropes around us. Our swords clanged to our feet.

"Momma!" I choked out, fighting desperately against my restraints. Hot tears streamed down my face and I screamed her name, screamed for the beast to let me go, screamed for my daddy to save her. . . . I just kept on screaming my head off as Jack raged with his threats of harm and death.

Daddy, Jack, and I managed to break through the ropes with a deadly sharp hook Daddy grabbed and we rushed over to her as she collapsed, her pure, beautiful heart resting in that beast's grimy claws. "Give that back!" Jack shouted at the crocodile. He pointedly ignored my twin.

Tears leaked out of Momma's crystal blue eyes as she whispered, "I love you all, Killian, Jack, Mellie . . . so much."

"I love you, too, Momma!" I cried, burying my face into her thick ebony hair, kissing her on the cheek.

"I love you!" Jack said as strongly as he could, grabbing her hand. He brought it up to his lips and pressed his lips against the back of it.

Daddy took her other hand and whispered his "I love you," as well. This wasn't fair . . . why were we saying goodbye? Why us? What did we ever do to that awful, awful beast?

I frantically clutched at the silky fabric of her dress to have something of hers to hold onto and that's when I felt it.

Dust . . . no, it couldn't be, no, NO! I snapped my head up and let out a strangled shriek as the dust of what was once my momma's heart diffused into the gentle breeze. "No, MOMMA!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, my voice cracking somewhere on the way out.

Jack was shell-shocked and beyond words, but I was hysterical. " _Momma!_ Momma, no, please!" I grabbed her roughly by her shoulders and shook her vigorously. "Momma, wake up! Just wake up, please. Please, you gotta wake up. No, you aren't dead, all right? You're just sleeping and you've gotta wake up because I can't live without you! _Please_ , Momma!"

My heart crumpled along with hers. Her eyes were blank and staring into nothingness and I sobbed into her dress. I felt a hand resting on my back, my daddy's hand, but I was numb to his touch. Nothing and nobody could soothe me now.

Blood roared like a storming ocean in my ears. I could vaguely hear my daddy bellowing something, but I had only one thought on my mind now . . . avenge my momma. Jack and I shared a look of grief, determination, and _resolve_.

I glared at the crocodile with as much hate as I could possibly force into that one glower and my brother and I cried together, "YOU KILLED MY MOMMA!"

We jumped for him like rabid animals, and I was fully intending to take his heart like he did to my momma . . . if the soulless beast even _had_ one. His scaly hands connected with the side of my face and Jack's nose. I crashed into the side of the ship along with my twin, pain flaring up in my cheekbone and back.

I felt strangely detached from the scene that played before my next; I was in a daze. Daddy had never looked so furious or hurt, his eyes were chips of ice. Not only did the beast murder the love of his life, but he just struck his precious children- the only family he had left now.

The crocodile was demanding something of my daddy, but I didn't know what, though it had to be important because Daddy snarled, "You'll have to kill me first!" His fist was clenched and I assumed that whatever the beast wanted, he was holding. _No!_ I wanted to yell. _Don't kill my daddy, too!_

"Ah ah, that's not in the cards for you, sonny boy!" The crocodile swung down his sword and . . . sliced off my father's hand! I cried out in horror as he roared in agony, cradling his stump of a hand close to him. The gush of crimson from the wound was sickening. I watched in disgust as the crocodile gingerly picked up the hand as if it were some plaything.

"You disgusting, vile arse," Jack sobbed, tears of fury rolling down his cheeks along with blood from his nose. If Momma had still been here, he would've got his mouth washed out with soap for that one.

It was excruciating to think like that . . . _if Momma had still been here_. She . . . she was gone, and she wasn't coming back. There would be no more memories to form with her, no more big happy family to take joy in. It was all over now and that forced a new wave of tears pouring out from my eyes.

The beast, ignoring my brother yet again, caressed the side of my daddy's neck with his sword, and murmured, "Because I want you to suffer- like I did." Hatred and rage boiled up inside me as one, and I viciously wished all the suffering on the world on the beast because however much he already had gone through, it _wasn't enough_.

I inwardly cheered as my daddy picked up the hook that had freed us and stabbed it into the crocodile's chest. I watched with satisfaction and malice, waiting for him to crumple to the ground in a puddle of blood or whatever liquid flowed through his monstrous veins.

 _But he didn't die_. He just stood there, perfectly fine and intact, and plucked out the hook as if it were a splinter. "Damn you," I hissed under my breath. "Damn you to the fiery pits of hell." My wish for him to die a horrible, excruciating death was momentarily ruined.

"Killing me's going to be a lot harder than that, _dearie_ ," he sneered and I found myself wondering why he seemed to call everyone that.

"Even demons can be killed," my daddy managed to say courageously through his obvious pain. "I will find a way!"

"Well, good luck living long enough," he taunted, then turned to me. I cowered beneath his sadistic glare. "Ah, the son and daughter of the traitor and pirate scum. You shouldn't exist, dearies."

"Neither should you," I growled back. "You're a monster and a murderer and you'll _never_ find happiness." The crocodile only grinned down at me, but I could tell my last comment struck a chord in him.

Jack simply said, "I'll use my existence to kill you!"

The crocodile recovered from his momentary slip of his guard. "The both of you have fire, just like your dearly departed mother." _Don't you DARE mention my momma, you sick bastard!_

"Don't you dare talk to my children!" Daddy roared, but there wasn't much he could do.

He turned his head to look at my daddy and sing-songed, "I believe there is another way for you to suffer," he giggled. "Losing your children, of course."

Jack and I blindly grasped each other's hands as Daddy's eyes stretched open as wide as they could go and he begged, "NO! No, not them!"

"Ah, yes, this will do nicely," the beast sighed happily. "The traitor's lover and children ought to suffer as much as she."

It wrenched my heart to see my daddy so helpless and broken at the same time. "Please, anything but them. Kill me, rip out my heart and crush it to dust, just _don't hurt them!"_ Daddy stretched out his arms and opened himself up for attack, slowly shutting his eyes at the same time as if he were resigning to his fate.

"Dad, no!" Jack protested valiantly, reaching out for my father as if he were right in front of us. "We already lost Momma, I can't lose you too. I love you."

When Daddy only opened his eyes to stare at us mournfully, still not budging on his life-ending decision, I insisted, " _Please_ , Daddy, don't do this! I can't bear to think of a world without you in it because I _love_ you!"

Daddy's piercing blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears and the crocodile rolled his eyes with a huff. "Now, did I say that you could take their place? No, I didn't, but you pirates never listen. I'm taking your children whether you like it or not, _dearie_. You might like to throw in your goodbyes because you'll never see each other again!" He sounded so terribly _joyful_ as he uttered those soul-crushing words.

A single tear fell down my father's face as his shoulders lowered with sheer anguish. "No . . . _no_ , don't do this. They did _nothing_ to you, they are INNOCENT!" Daddy made a mad dash for us, but the crocodile used his dark magic to fling him back and he landed with a dull thud onto the ship's deck.

So, this was true. The crocodile was going to kill us. The sound of our family's hearts breaking had to be audible to everyone around us. I sure could hear them, louder than anything else I'd ever heard. Daddy lifted up his head and the look on his face would haunt me for the rest of my life. The indescribable pain (both physical and emotional), the boundless fury, the grief a man felt as he witnessed his family being torn away from him right before his eyes.

"I love you both so much. My little pirates." He managed to turn up the corners of his mouth through his hurt. "Jack, my noble, heroic boy with nerves of steel and a heart of pure gold. Mellie, my fearless, daring girl with a fierce but brilliant spirit that can _never_ be crushed. Be brave for me, please, _be brave for me_."

"I won't let you down, Dad," Jack said with remarkable grit. "I will never let you down. _Never_. I'm your son and you gave me the courage to face this head on. I owe you everything." Our father dipped his head with such intense pride.

Now, it was my time to say something meaningful that my daddy could remember us by. I sucked in a breath and racked my brain. "I'll be brave 'till the end, for _you_. I'll die with honor, something this crocodile has _never_ possessed." I shot the beast the most venomous look I could muster, but he still let me continue. "I'll die with honor because I'm _your_ daughter, and death can never change that."

We were all crying by this point and so much more could have been said, but our time was up. At least the crocodile was no longer smiling. "I love you," my brother and I chanted in unison, the emotion almost too unbearable for me to say it one more time. But we were his children and our daddy was courageous and strong, and thus, _so were we_.

"I love you, too," Daddy ground out as if a knife were lodged in his chest. He would have preferred that to this in a heartbeat. "My brave little pirates."

Our eyes connected one final time and Jack and I whispered, "Goodbye."

We didn't get to hear his response because the crocodile waved his hand in a flourish and the beloved Jolly Roger disappeared from around us. Now, Jack and I were sitting in a small, damp little room with no windows and a small door. A tower. Daddy was gone.

There was filthy straw beneath me and a chamber pot in the corner, but that was it. I looked around in confusion and fear. _What are we doing here?_

"What are we doing _here?_ " Jack echoed my thoughts vehemently. "I thought he was going to kill us. Why are we _here?"_

"Maybe he changed his mind," I said hopefully, but almost immediately the evil doubt set in. "No, of course not. If he did, then we would be back with Daddy right now." A strangled sob wracked my form. "Jack, it isn't fair! Momma, sweet Momma . . . he killed her. He _murdered_ her! And now we're never going to see Daddy again! How can he _do_ this to us? How c-can he t-tear our worlds apart like . . . like we're _nothing?_ N-nothing at _all?_ " I couldn't continue because I was weeping too hard to speak.

Jack embraced me and pulled me against his chest, resting his chin comfortably on the crown of my head. Teardrops landed onto my hair, but I didn't mind. "I don't know, Mellie. I didn't know anyone could be so evil. I didn't think it was possible, but I was _wrong_."

The door swung open and I squinted my eyes as light flooded in. The crocodile, grinning wickedly at us, said, "Yes, child, you were wrong. Now, your father has a desperate desire to kill me now, and he's going to want to live long enough to do so. So, I'm doing you a favor, dearies. You get to stay in here for eternity, never aging a single day. Ten years old forever. Have fun."

With that, he slammed the door shut and I was alone with Jack, panicking. He couldn't _mean_ that, could he? We would be trapped in this horrid little space for _eternity?_ He was _beyond_ cruel. Not only did he rip apart our lives and _enjoy_ it, but he wouldn't even put us out of our misery- no, he had to let us stew in it and suffer for eternity.

"Let us out!" I screamed, pounding my fists on the door until they bled. "Please, I'll do anything, just _let us out!_ We didn't do anything wrong, you horrible, disgusting monster! LET US OUT!"

"I'LL KILL YOU!" Jack raged into the wood of the door when we realized my tactic wasn't working. "I'LL FIND YOU AND END YOU!"

There was silence and we crumpled to the ground. How could anybody be so . . . inhuman? Was he once a good man? Or was he always like this: a shell of what he could be?

 _He did murder our momma_ , I thought darkly, fiddling with some of the dry straw beneath my fingers. And so we waited, for it was all we could do.

Together, but isolated from the rest of the world. Together . . . but alone.

 **A/N: So, what do you think? Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let us know!**


	3. Hell on Earth

**A/N: What's a pirate's favorite letter? R? Nope! The C! Get it . . . get it . . . get it? Yeah, you get it. M'kay, Goldie here is done. I'm in a weird mood . . . sorry about that. First off, to all the readers, followers, favoriters (That can't be a real word, is it?), and reviewers of this story . . . you are the best kind of awesome sauce! Thank you so much! We're so glad you're enjoying this so far!**

 **A special thanks to our second reviewer, the guest reviewer :)! Your kind, thoughtful review inspired us to update more quickly, so we owe a lot of that to you! We encourage you to write that Hook's daughter story! Seriously, write it!** ** _Wriiiiiitttteeee iiiiiiittttt!_** ***Ahem*, okay, now that that's out of my system. . . . We would read the hell out of that, so if you start writing it soon (which you should) be sure to tell us about it so we can read it! :D**

 **Anyway, a little explanation here. This chapter takes place a few hundred years after the last one. Yeah, that sounds weird, doesn't it? But it's true. We don't exactly know how canon this is, but we had Rumpel place a time spell on the twins so they cannot age at all. Oh well, it's fanfiction :p. Basically, we still view them as ten years old, even if they're** ** _technically_** **not. Because they're physically ten, emotionally ten, mentally and intellectually ten (they've had no opportunity to mature in their imprisonment . . . you'll see). So, essentially, they're ten. Yeah, so . . . please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :)**

 **Warning: Possible trigger warning? The characters are very, very depressed, and have suicidal thoughts.**

 **Chapter 2: Hell on Earth**

 **Jack's Perspective**

Mellie and I would scratch the wall every single morning to maintain some concept of time, so we wouldn't go absolutely insane. Truthfully, we had lost count after the amount of scratches had entered the thousands, then the tens of thousands. . . .

We counted every single piece of straw in there hundreds of times over. We even named every single one of them- well, I tried to with as many names as I could think. The two of us were polite and considerate enough to remember and respect the names we each gave to them. Several of the names were made up, but it made no difference to us. They were our only friends besides each other and they were inanimate objects, they wouldn't mind.

Our clothes were replaced every few years, and they were in dire need of replacement now; my pants and baggy shirt were faded and gray and essentially unrecognizable and the same went for her dress. Oh, how Mellie hated dresses. She had always been a tomboy. Sometimes, when it didn't hurt as much, I recalled my cherished memories of wearing _leather_. Leather, it was a gift from the heavens. At least our family used to think so, even Mellie and our momma. Our momma looked beautiful in leather and she was so happy. . . .

We were all happy then. It was joyous to recall, yet immeasurably excruciating at the same time. Because those times were no more.

It hurt to think about, so let's move on. We looked like the raggedy homeless children we once paid no mind to. Melody's ebony curls of hair had never been so tangled and I forgot what my hair used to feel like before the layers upon layers of grease.

My skin once had a light, golden tan to it from the constant rays of sun from the deck of our beloved Jolly Roger. What I'd give to feel that warmth again, to smell the salt of the sea crashing against the wooden sides of the ship, to feel the gently rocking deck beneath my worn-out shoes. . . . No more.

We were so deathly pale that we appeared as ghosts. It was fitting, really. Because we were alive, yes, technically, but sometimes it felt like we had truly died the day we were locked away in this wretched tower.

Oh, I believe I left out a crucial fact. We were alone in that little prison for _several hundred years_. There was nobody to talk to but ourselves and nowhere to go and nothing to hope for. . . . It was pure hell, in its worst form.

We were brought food once a day just as our chamber pot was replaced at the same time, but it was always a meager meal. The crocodile decided he had to starve us while torturing us, I suppose. He always gave us enough to keep us alive, though. He was teasing us, which he so loved to do- he knew perfectly well that we'd rather him let us die.

It would have been so, so lonely had Mellie not been there, but by now, we knew every little detail about the other. It was like we were one person. There was no _small talk_ left, it just wasn't possible. Don't mistake me as ungrateful, though, if Mellie hadn't been there then I wouldn't have lasted an hour.

It was a little strange, really. Before our imprisonment, we were undeniably close, sharing that treasured twin bond. But this was . . . different. Sure, before we enjoyed the time spent together and loved each other dearly, but we were both independent and highly attached to our parents. We didn't need to rely so heavily on each other when we had a whole family to depend on.

Now, we were all the other had left. It wasn't just that we loved each other more than anything else in the whole wide world, we _needed_ each other. So much. We were each other's life boats, keeping our heads above the dark, churning water. Our connection, strengthened so much over the years, went impossibly deep. Before, if the other had died, we would've lost our other half. But now, it would be like losing ourselves.

My only other companions were my flashbacks of the worst day of my life, the day our mother was murdered and the day we were taken away from my father. Mellie relived them, too; I could tell when her eyes would go away.

We sometimes role-played as others, _anyone_ , so it was like we had friends- other than ourselves and the straws, of course. There was a point where I seriously questioned my sanity, until I realized I didn't even know the meaning of the word anymore. It was all void now.

The isolation ate away at us both every minute of every hour of every day of every year, to the point where there wasn't enough of me for it to eat away from. Whoever I once was, so long ago, he had long since worn away. I wasn't even just a shell of him, the shell was eaten away, too. No, I was _nothing._

I told this to Mellie once, maybe about fifty years ago. Hadn't really brought it up again, there was no point. We both felt it but there was nothing to do about it, so what was the point in talking about it? She wholeheartedly agreed with me, said that over the years she felt like her soul had painfully seeped out of her body and never returned.

At least I had somebody to tell this to, but it wasn't enough. It was nowhere _near_ enough. See, I had wished for death the day I had arrived, several hundred years before. And every single day, the want for it grew and grew to the point where now, it was my first thought when I woke up, my last thought before I slipped into a fitful slumber . . . and nearly every thought in between. I wanted to die.

I knew Mellie did, too. We occasionally mentioned it to each other. We wanted to die, and we wanted to die together. Neither of us had it in us to end the other's life, though. We couldn't put the other through the misery of being _completely_ alone, alive while the other was dead. My sister and I were each other's only reasons to live and it would be unimaginably cruel to end that.

My eyes peeled open in what I vaguely assumed was morning- although I really had no idea. I had no concept of time anymore. The only light that came into this place was the weak stream from the crack under the door. Mellie was still sleeping, looking peaceful enough but as I clawed at the wall to leave this day's mark on the grand scheme of things, she stirred awake. "Mmm . . . did you already mark today, brother?" It was useless, really, but it was all we could do.

"Consider it done, sister." My fingernails were incredibly uneven and jagged by this point.

"I'll do it tomorrow, then," she offered and I nodded in agreement. "The food ought to be here soon."

"Yes, it should," I said simply and our conversation blinked out.

Our meal would come when the light turned the straw into a glimmering pale gold. The light was only beginning to peek in. As I often did, I stretched out my legs and arms so my fingers and toes just barely touched both sides of the tower (it was _that_ tiny, I was only five foot three).

Mellie, as _she_ so often did, curled up in her favorite corner (though it wasn't even a corner, the tower was round) and began to sing softly to herself.

A few hundred years before, I must say, she didn't have the greatest singing voice, but since she had so very long to improve it, it was a thousand times better. Sometimes, when we were feeling especially lonely, she would sing the lullaby we remembered our momma used to sing to us every night before bed (we shared a room). Daddy would lean on the doorway and smile away at the special moment . . . no more.

Her singing voice sounded similar to our momma's (except higher, and more bell-like and haunting) so occasionally, if I closed my eyes, I could pretend Momma was here with us. But she wasn't. She was dead- _murdered_.

Mellie was singing one of Momma's lullabies now and I half-heartedly hummed along with it. "I've always liked this one," I complimented and she dipped her head in acknowledgement.

Stretching, I crunched the straw beneath my bare feet then almost instantly felt guilty; that was no way to treat your friends! I murmured an apology, "Sorry Jane, sorry Edward."

"Don't forget Leo, James, and Isabella," Mellie pointed out, the ghost of a smile touching her face. We didn't smile anymore, hadn't for several centuries now. The muscles in my face that allowed me to smile had to be so unused that even if I wanted to, I probably couldn't.

"Right, sorry guys." My stomach rumbled; we were already starving, the least they could do was bring us our tiny daily meal.

The crocodile had actually disappeared years ago. He had some magical beings or spells or whatever dark magic he could come up with continue to bring us our food. "How many years do you think he's been gone now?" There was no real point to my question. We hadn't mentioned it in a few years now, because it didn't seem like he was coming back.

My question startled her enough to cease her singing. Her body stiffened up as she pondered it over. "Er, based off this area of marks," she motioned to the area of tower wall behind her back, "I'd say about . . . twenty-eight years? Twenty-nine, maybe?"  
"Sounds roughly correct."

Her curved black eyebrows knit together and her head tilted to the left slightly. She gnawed on her lip; it was one of her most common nervous ticks. "Why bring this up now? We haven't really mentioned it in . . . twenty-five years? We deduced he probably wasn't coming back, at least not anytime soon."

"I don't really know, it was just on my mind." I shrugged and decided to drop the subject. Apathetic at best, she closed her eyes and began singing her little tune again.

A few hours later, the straw was blazing gold, but no food arrived. "This isn't right," I murmured, tapping repetitively at the locked meal flap.

Mellie remarked, "They're never this late. _Never_." Her hands started to quiver and she seemed more alive than she had in _so many_ years. "The food's been brought at the same exact time for several hundred years now. What's changed _now?_ Has the crocodile finally decided to kill us?" Burying her face in hands, her body rocked back and forth. "This is it, brother. The days have come. We're going to finally die."

"I wouldn't be so hopeful," I pointed out darkly because something wasn't right. Why now? Why what was so special about this particular day and beyond that he would _finally_ put us out of our misery? "And even if . . . it'll be painful, starving to death." You might think we could have let ourselves starve to death before, but the crocodile and then whatever minions he had left always made sure we ate and drank, forcing us to stay alive.

Her head snapped up and her bright blue eyes swam with tears. "Stop it, Jack! We have nothing here . . . just let me have that! I know it'll be painful, but the result will be worth it! Let me hold onto that hope that this can _finally_ end. It's what we've wanted for _so_ long. _Please, of all things, let me have that!_ "

I struck an extremely frayed nerve and for that I was guilty. A single tear fell down her face, the most emotion she's displayed in (you guessed it, years!), so I leaned over forward to wipe it away with my thumb. "Of course, sister. I would never take that from you. You know how much I want that, too, I just don't want you to get your hopes up and then be disappointed."

She didn't answer; she was closing herself off. All I could do now keep my expectations low and wait for my food, but even my own hopes began to rise once it became apparent that the food wasn't coming. "Jack, this is it, this is what we've been waiting for."

"I hope you're right," I whispered, my heart picking up in pace. _Thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud_.

We both, deep down, assumed this day was the day our suffering might finally begin to end, but it wasn't . . . because something else happened first.

No, something so much _greater_ happened. There was a loud _thump_ against the door, then a chirp. Our locked meal flap was pecked open by the creature and the bird crawled its way through. A pigeon. It looked up at me expectantly and held out its leg with a note and a package tied to it.

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head and Mellie tentatively stroked at its fluffy gray feathers, murmuring, ". . . This is new."

"What do you want?" I asked the bird (rhetorically, of course, I didn't _completely_ lose my mind), plucking the note and package off its leg. I couldn't quite find it in me to open it at first.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Mellie prompted of me impatiently. "C'mon, Jack, nothing unpredictable has happened to us for centuries. We might as well embrace this moment."

"I don't know what to expect," I finally said, revealing my fear. "It can't be any worse than this."

"You're right, it can't, so you might as well _open it_." I shook my head fondly. Even as the years wasted away at us, Mellie was as blunt as ever.

"All right . . . I'll do it." I untied the note and was stunned to read,

 _Dear children of Killian and Milah,_

 _I've stumbled upon this magical bean and although it could be for other purposes, I've decided to use it for you. I've kept you here_ _l_ _ong enough. My vendetta against your mother has disappeared, since my true love has returned. I have been making amends. Take this bean, and be free._

 _Rumpelstiltskin_

My fingers were trembling with shock. _This can't be,_ I thought over and over again. _This just can't be_. The crocodile was letting us go after _so many years_?! This just couldn't be possible. This was never an option, so we never bothered to wish for it.

"What does it say?" Mellie leaned into my personal space to read the letter and nearly choked on her own saliva. "No, no, he wouldn't do that. This is fake, this isn't real . . . it can't be. He'd sooner end our lives than pull a stunt like this. No, this is just another one of his _games_." She spat the last word like it was a disgusting taste she couldn't rid her tongue of.

"Open the package, then," I told her gently, my voice so much hoarser than it was before I read the letter. "See if it's one of his games."

"Why bother?" she demanded, angrily throwing the package at the wall. It fell with a soft _puff_ onto the straw. "I bet there's nothing in there. He just wants to hurt us again. Think about it, Jack, think about it! He murdered our mother, cut off our father's hand, locked us away for several hundred years . . . ! Does that sound like a man- no, he's not a man, he's a beast! Does that crocodile sound like somebody with even an ounce of mercy in his system? No! He's a cold-blooded reptile with the blackest of hearts- if he even _has_ one."

"If you're not going to open it, then I will," I said more harshly than I originally meant to. She flinched, but stood her ground.

"Do what you want, brother. It'll get us _nowhere_." Sighing at her stubbornness, I crawled through the straw- this time not bothering to apologize to any of our friends- and gingerly picked up the package.

Swallowing a huge gulp of air, I pulled open the little bag and my heart stuttered and skipped a beat as a bright green bean fell out onto the ground. The crocodile didn't lie . . . he actually gave us a magical giant's bean, an object of legends.

"That's impossible," Mellie whispered, nudging it around with her forefinger. "This . . . this can't be happening. Not after so much time. I-I . . . didn't think this could _ever_ be possible."

"But it's here." Suddenly, an enormous jolt of exhilaration burned fire through my veins and I jumped to my feet, tears of pure joy streaming down my cheeks. "Mellie, sister, _this is it!_ We don't have to die because-"

Mellie got to her feet as well as her eyes filled up with tears. "Because . . . we're free. Jack . . . we're free." It really hit her then and her frame shook with full, body-embossing sobs. "Oh my _God!_ We don't have to spend another minute in this purgatory . . . WE'RE FREE!"

I pulled her into a bone-crushing embrace and we wept together. As we noisily cried, our savior pigeon hobbled out the meal flap and then picked the door's main lock with its sharp beak. We instantly jumped apart as we heard it.

Mellie stepped forward and pushed the door open with such trepidation, it was like she expected it to come alive and tear her to pieces. The door _swung open_ , revealing the happy little pigeon on the other side. "You bloody fantastic bird," Mellie ferociously praised and it chirped in response.

I picked up the giant's bean off the floor and kissed it. "Thank the deities that this exists."

A shadow of doubt lowered Mellie's spirits. "But how do we get it to work?"

I reflected on all I had ever heard about the magical beans. "Hmm . . . I have an idea." Almost expecting a bolt of lightning to appear and zap me to death, I stepped a toe outside of the door and then quickly yanked it back. "I-I don't know if I can do this. Not after so long. . . ."

Mellie took my hand in hers. "Yes, you can. _We_ can. Together." Nodding in determination, we jumped out of our prison and into the surrounding hallway. We did it. Our first step to freedom was completed.

"Yes!" Before, I wondered if I even could smile anymore, but a grin nearly ripped my face apart. Mellie smiled just as wide- strange thing, our teeth were somehow perfectly fine due to the crocodile's anti-aging magic. Guess we had one thing to be the slightest bit grateful for.

"Now what?" Mellie panted, hopping up and down like a hyper child much younger than herself. "What do we do now?"

" _This_." Gripping the bean as tightly as I could, I threw it across the hall with all my might. A tiny flicker of light formed where it landed on the filthy ground. The bean brightened and brightened and turned into a swirling whirlpool of green fluctuating light. "Let's go, Mellie! We can do this!"

Hand in hand, we raced for it and without even the slightest glance behind us to say goodbye to what had been our prison for so long, we jumped into the whirlpool.

 **A/N: Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let us know! Where do you think they're going to end up? Here's a hint- they're going to meet a main character.**


	4. A Whole New Universe

**A/N: Ackkkkkkk. We took way too long for this update, and we're sorry about that. So sorry. Real life gets in the way, you know? But school ends in three weeks for us, so we should have way more time to write!**

 **Thanks so much for all those who've read, favorited, followed, and reviewed this story! Also, we would like to ask of you to check out "The Pirate Princess" by TheNeverlandImagination! We love her story, and it's about Hook's daughter. Seriously, check it out!**

 **We hope you guys like this chapter! We've worked very hard on it, and it's pretty long. The twins meet a very notable character, but how will they react to the real world? Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **Chapter 3: A Whole New Universe**

 **Melody's Perspective**

I could hardly summon a scream as I was twisted and jerked around in all directions. For a brief moment, it occurred to me that this very well could be my death, and it seemed strange that only a few minutes ago I would have rejoiced, but now it was so unfair once we gained the smallest hint of freedom.

And then it was over. We dropped through the cold, crisp, foreign air right onto a metal balcony of sorts. The landing was jarring and painful and made my teeth rattle.

Blindly, I groped around for Jack and sighed with relief as my hand made contact with his shoulder. "Jack," I asked with eyes still shut, "are you okay?"

He only groaned in response, and I finally peeled open my eyes. Bright sunlight was the first thing that struck me and I hissed, shielding my gaze. Yes, we had light during the daytime in our prison, but it came from a sliver under the door. Nothing as vivid as this.

Once my eyes grew a little more used to the light (still not fully), I surveyed my surroundings. We were high up in the air outside of a window, connected to a ridiculously tall building. My breath caught in my throat and strangled me as my vision cleared enough for me to take in everything else.

Buildings, so many enormous _buildings_. There were people milling around in flocks wearing the most bizarre clothes I had ever laid eyes on. Small, metal, brightly-colored creatures carried some of these people around with black wheels attached to the bottom. The noise was positively maddening.

"Oh my God," Jack breathed next to me. "Where _are_ we?"

Before I could reply (not that I had any sort of knowledgeable answer), the window behind us slid open and a handsome face of a dark-haired man with equally dark eyes appeared. His eyebrows were knit together in confusion and Jack and I scrambled as far away as we could from him.

He lifted his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "Hey, I'm not going to hurt you two. Do you mind if I ask . . . how'd you two get here? One moment, I glanced out my window and there was nothing there and the next you two were here. I've heard about raining cats and dogs, but not kids." He smiled hesitantly as he made the joke, but I remained unamused- only because I was so terrified.

His grin faded and he slowly made his way onto the balcony- in response, Jack and I cowered even further away. "Guys, I'm safe, really. What are your names?" When we stayed silent, he went on as if he hadn't asked, "My name's Neal. Do you two want to come in? It looks like you haven't had a decent meal or shower in a really, really long time."

Well, he was right about the cleaning part and somewhat correct about the food. We were fed often enough, but in such small portions that it amounted to not enough for us. When we still didn't budge, he sighed and told us, "Be right back."

Jack and I exchanged a bewildered look as he ducked back inside his home and reappeared a minute or two later with three plates of food. He pushed two of them towards us and surprisingly, sat down and placed the third on his lap. "I haven't eaten lunch yet, I figured we could eat together."

I didn't need any more encouragement- I snatched my food off the plate (it appeared to be two slices of bread with meat and the like inside) and bit into it. It was savory and the flavors sang a song and melted into my mouth. This was the best food I'd had since before my imprisonment and my empty, starving belly roared in approval.

Jack was attempting to stuff the entire thing into his mouth and I noticed, through my food euphoria, that the man named Neal was watching us rather carefully. "You don't have to inhale it," he chuckled, "it's not going anywhere."

Once I finished (which was in a very short time), I tentatively pushed the plate back toward Neal, unsure of what to do with it. Neal cleaned up our dishes and entered his home again. He left the window wide open.

Curiosity got the better of me and I scooted over to the window, peeking in without invitation. "Mellie!" Jack hissed in warning. "Don't go in there, it may not be safe."

There was a thing about me that I inherited from my mother that never changed in all the years I'd been alive. When people told me what to do, I had a burning desire to do the exact opposite and this was no exception.

My feet were on the floor of his home before I knew what was happening and Jack hopped in right after me, his protective nature presumably kicking in. Neal was loitering in his kitchen, looking entirely unsurprised that we entered. He casually pointed to the seating arrangement in the main room. "You two can sit down if you want."

I took him up on his offer by hoisting myself over the back of one of the couches and curling up into a tight ball. Jack seated himself right next to me and took my hand.

Neal for some reason still kept his distance in the kitchen. "So, I told you my name, fed you, we're pretty good friends by now, right?" he joked and I dared a tiny smile. "What are your names?"

"Melody," I finally replied and Neal grinned, probably triumphant that he got us to speak to him.

"That's a pretty name."

"I'm Jack," my brother piped up, probably feeling a little left out. His eyes never stayed still, flickering all around the room as if expecting some kind of trap.

"Nice to meet you two. Are you from around here?" Neal asked.

Jack and I shared a look. "No, not really . . . ," I replied. "If you don't mind me asking, where is _here?_ "

Neal's eyebrows shot up. "You don't know where you are?"

"We're just temporarily lost," Jack countered. I squeezed his hand; Neal might not have caught it, but I could sense his pride bubbling up.

"Well, this is New York City," Neal informed us, still confused. Apparently done with standing alone in the kitchen, he walked around the couches and sat down in a chair across from my brother and I.

I shared another look with Jack. _New York City?_ Neither of us had ever heard of a place called New York City, despite all our travels in our childhood, and Jack practically knew every map we'd had on board like the back of his hand. Just how far from any place resembling home were we?

"You sound like you're fresh out of England," Neal remarked, but we didn't know where that was either and he quickly caught onto that. "But you haven't heard of that either, have you?"

"Of course we have!" Jack was becoming defensive.

Neal snorted and I glowered at him. "Yeah, well where in England are you from? Name a city, any city." We stayed silent. "Thought so."

"It's hard to explain," I expressed, frustrated.

He studied us closely and I felt uncomfortable due to his scrutinization. "I'm guessing you two are not from around here," Neal said matter-of-factly, that little snippet of information didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. "Like, _really_ not from around here. Y'know," he leaned in like he was telling his deepest, darkest secret and Jack and I involuntarily moved closer, "when I was a boy, I lived in a land far away from here. Judging by your clothes and, er, your lack of knowledge on certain everyday things, I can't help but wonder if you two are from there as well."

"We can't tell you if we're from there if you don't tell us where you're talking about," I dryly remarked, my lips tweaking up into the semblance of a smug smile.

He smiled too and shook his head lightly. "Ever heard of a magic bean? Believe it or not, that's how I got here. There were a few, uh, adventures on the way, but I ended up here in the long run."

Before I could stop myself, I gasped, "You're like us?"

"More than you know." He smiled at us warmly and for the first time in, well, several hundred years I supposed, I felt truly at ease.

"You know, don't take this the wrong way, but . . ." He shifted awkwardly in his seat. "The two of you aren't the cleanest kids I've met in my time and, uh, if you want, you can use my shower."

What in the bloody hell was a shower? I stared at him blankly, not even pretending to have the foggiest idea what he was going on about. He was politely insinuating that we stunk, I knew that, but his solution was entirely foreign to me.

Neal seemed to grasp our ignorance and stood up abruptly, beckoning us to follow him. Jack and I glanced over at each other and shrugged in response, tailing him over to a washroom of sorts. The pieces of furniture inside were beyond strange.

"There's something in this world called indoor plumbing," Neal explained, pointing at this bowl of porcelain filled with water. "We don't have chamber pots anymore. We use this, and flush it all away."

Out of curiosity's sake, I turned the lever he was pointing at and jumped about a foot in the air when the water inside of the bowl swirled around like a whirlpool. "This is madness!" Neal smirked down at me.

Jack adjusted one of the knobs above a shallow white basin and gave off a rather unmanly shriek as water poured down from the pipe-like structure. "I didn't mean to do that!" he defended himself like a small child caught red-handed.

Neal chuckled lightly and reached over, turning the knob to its original position. "Yeah, that must come as a bit of a shock- there's something called running water now. Like this." He walked over and slid open this thin, translucent door open to reveal a bathtub of sorts. There was a dull, brass-colored knob on one side and as Neal tweaked it to the side, a shimmering waterfall streamed down from an arching pipe-like structure.

"So, Melody, how about you go first? You turn it to the left if you want it hotter, and the right if you want it colder, and," he reached over and displayed two moderately sized bottles, "this is shampoo. You put it in your hair, then rinse it off, and this is conditioner. You put that on after the shampoo, but you rinse it off too. You can use that brush in there to comb out your hair. And these things right here," he pointed to these crusty pieces of fabric, "are called towels and you dry yourself with them when you're done. You think you got all that?"

I nodded hesitantly; it was an awful lot to remember, but I was clever enough. I'd figure it out.

"Well, we'll leave you to it," Neal said, exiting the bathroom, but Jack didn't budge. An expression of sheer, unadulterated terror shadowed over his features and a cold shock of fright rattled my system. We hadn't been separated for over several hundred years, so this was entirely new for us. I couldn't bear the thought of my twin being out of my sight. "Jack? You okay, there, buddy? C'mon, let's leave your sister alone and let her take her shower."

His thin frame visibly trembled and moisture threatened to spill from his eyes. This was just as hard for him as it was for me. Still, he managed to force himself to follow Neal out, but I knew full well that he wouldn't leave the other side of that door. The thought calmed me somewhat.

I closed the door behind the two of them, the last thing I saw being the gleam of fear in Jack's brown eyes. I fought the urge to fling the door open, tackle Jack with a hug, and cry my eyes out. This all was so . . . overwhelming.

But I didn't, because I needed to be brave. So, I stripped myself of all my awful clothes and stepped into the shower, releasing a squeal of surprise as I found the water to be hot. Hot, running water? What kind of world was this?

I didn't expect the feeling that came along with it- it was _amazing_. Centuries of grime and dirt and stink just swirled down the drain, and I felt like a whole new person.

My first task was to use the shampoo as he told me to (it was an odd, frothy substance) and then the conditioner. It was immensely difficult to even attempt to disentangle my matted curls of hair, but try I did.

After a few minutes, I noticed my hand shaking and tears blurring my vision. I couldn't do this, any of this. I felt like half a person without Jack by my side, and I already missed him so intensely that it scared me. I just couldn't survive without him.

Along with that, this new world was so confusing and foreign to me. Was this real? Or perhaps it was just a wild dream to entertain me as I lay sleeping in our awful prison. But I wasn't waking up.

I lost every single ounce of control I had left and crumpled to my knees, my body wracking with bitter sobs. It was all too much. I couldn't handle this.

More than anything, I wanted my parents back. Now that my brother and I had finally acquired freedom, it was all the more evident to me who was missing. I didn't want my freedom without them.

My beloved momma was ripped from this world so horribly and so very _young_. She was a beautiful person, inside and out, and I still missed her with every fiber of my being.

And then there was my daddy. As much as I cherished my momma, I was a daddy's girl and everyone knew it, just as Jack was a daddy's boy. Was. I admired and adored him so much, practically worshipped the ground he walked on, so when I was taken from this man who I looked up to so dearly, it shattered my heart into a million pieces and stole my soul. He was my protector, my hero, . . . my daddy.

Was. He had to have been long gone now, and it sent stabs of agony through what semblance of a heart I had left, knowing that he must have died a broken, lonely man.

I only wept harder now. Daddy lived out the rest of his life _alone_. Why me? Why this family? What did we do to the world to deserve our unbearable suffering?

A sharp rapping on the door startled me out of my hysterics and in came Neal's yell of, "Melody, are you all right? Do you need me to come in there?"

I managed to choke out through my tears, "I'm okay." It was a lie. I hadn't been okay in so many years and I didn't think I'd ever be okay again.

 **Jack's Perspective**

I leaned against the wall beside the door to the shower room, and Neal sat down beside me. I was content to listen to the sound of the shower, but Neal seemed to find it a bit awkward, and spoke up.

"So, uh, what was your life like before? Yours and Melody's?" Neal asked.

I stared at the floor as if it would answer for me. "We lived on a ship, with our mum and dad. We were pirates. My dad was the captain of our ship, and I was supposed to take over when I was old enough."

Memories of my childhood rose to the surface of my mind; memories of happy days, and Melody's laugh, and my momma's singing, and my daddy's warm smile that made us feel like nothing could ever harm us. I forced them away.

Something held me back from continuing the story. Maybe I just needed a minute of silence to reassure myself that Melody was still okay, that she was just on the other side of this door, or maybe I just wasn't ready to relive the events of the worst day of my life again. It was probably both.

"One day, this awful crocodile appeared on our boat, and he was mad at our momma for something. He killed her; stuck his hand in her chest and ripped out her heart . . . and crushed it." I stopped here, swallowing down the tears and grief and sobs. I had to be a man and be strong for my sister.

Neal looked like he wanted to say something, but I wasn't done yet. "The crocodile, when he saw us, decided to take us away from our daddy. He cut off our daddy's hand, and, and . . ."

I took a long, shaky breath in a futile attempt to hold myself together long enough to finish my story. "He locked us in a tower for a few centuries. He cast this spell on us so we wouldn't age, so he could leave us there for as long as he wanted. . . ."

Tears started to fall down my cheeks, but I refused to give them sobs to accompany them. So I just cried in silence for a minute, while Neal sat awkwardly beside me, just letting me have my moment. At some point, Neal started to rub slow, comforting circles on my back, which calmed me down enough to stop crying.

I just couldn't believe that we were free. It was too good to be true. I knew, I just knew, that the crocodile was going to pop up sometime and tell us it'd all been a joke; a bit of entertainment for his sick, scaly mind. The world we were standing in seemed so surreal. Running water and . . . Bloody crumpets, how high in the air were we?

"Jack, I ought to tell you something," Neal admitted. I turned my face toward him, rubbing absentmindedly at my damp and reddened cheeks. Neal's face wore an expression unlike any I'd seen from him so far, but was not unrecognizable; it was the look of painful memories.

"The crocodile, he was my-"

A loud thump came from inside the bathroom, startling me to my feet and dismissing any worries I had about what Neal had been saying. The shower was still running- I could hear it- but it now carried an undertone of sobbing.

"Mellie?" I murmured worriedly under my breath, speaking more to myself than my sister or Neal. More sobs.

"Mellie!" I shouted, throwing myself at the door in a desperate attempt to reach my sister. My desperation was comparable only to when the crocodile stood before my mother with her heart in his claws.

Neal leaped up with an exclamation of surprise and put his hands firmly on my shoulders, stopping me from breaking down his bathroom door (which, of course, I was fully capable of doing. Wood stood no chance before the great Jack Jones!). "Whoa there Junior, calm down."

"Melody, are you all right? Do you need me to come in there?" Neal shouted through the door, knocking on it repetitively. Melody was still sobbing in the shower and I was nearly hysterical at this point, straining against Neal's hands in my attempt to reach the door.

"Mellie!" I cried again, but my throat was hoarse, and her name came out only as a muffled croak. I'd started crying again, and it felt as if I couldn't control my breathing; or my heartbeat, for that matter. My chest rose and fell uncontrollably and the only thing I could hear other than the shower and Melody's sobbing was the rush of blood in my head and my own turbulent heartbeat.

"I'm okay," Melody replied. I struggled a little less, because I wanted to believe her words. _Are you really? Because I'm not._

"Okay," Neal called back. My knees started to shake and I sank to the floor, kneeling, as my head fell forward into my hands. The sobs shook my entire body. I didn't care anymore, about what it was Neal had to tell me. It could wait. I was not okay.

"What did we do to earn this?" I demanded of no one in particular, my question itself being hardly more than an intelligible breath into my palms, which were sweaty from stress. Neal didn't hear my question, although he probably wouldn't have said anything if he had. He didn't know enough.

"Cracking crocodile, fecking crocodile," I cursed quietly. Neal hovered uncertainly by the bathroom door. _I would've had a soap bar stuck in my mouth after that_ , I thought, a fresh wave of tears making its appearance.

Throwing my head back, I shouted at the heavens, "You'll pay for your sins, crocodile! I know you're still out there, and I'm telling you that wherever you are, whatever protections and spells you have, they're not enough to stop me! You'll pay for this, for tearing my family apart!"

My shoulders heaved, and I stayed there for a few minutes, head thrown back and mouth open, panting, as I let the tears finish rolling down my cheeks. I'd done more crying today than I would've liked to, and I was still separated from my beloved sister by a ridiculous slab of wood (which was still powerless against me. I could beat it down anytime I felt like it), and we were in a stranger's house in a strange new world with no indication of where or when we were.

At some point, I realized the shower water was no longer running. Like a dog pricking up its ears, I sat up straighter and fixed my gaze on the bathroom door with avid focus. If I concentrated, I could hear the soft rustle of fabric and Melody hiccuping softly.

When the door opened, I jumped, startled, then nearly trampled Neal to reach my sister. Melody, wet-haired and looking much cleaner than ever, even with her filthy clothes, rushed out, and we nearly smacked heads in our reunion. Steam and warm air trailed after Melody, winding invisibly around us as I crushed her against me in a hug, exhilarated that the weak door was no longer between us. She hugged me back just as forcefully.

Neal coughed to separate us after a moment, and we broke apart a little reluctantly. I couldn't resist the urge to hold Melody's hand, and she didn't seem to mind. "Jack, maybe you should take a shower now?"

 _We just bloody went through this very trying ordeal, and you expect us to do this whole thing again?_ I wondered, staring incredulously at Neal. Melody had to ask him to repeat the sentence, she was so baffled by it. She was clearly seriously questioning his intelligence.

"Melody and I will sit right here and you can shower, Jack," Neal said. He then added, "If you guys are going to be okay with that."

I met Melody's red-rimmed blue eyes (which were totally unfair. Why was I the only one in the family- the two of us- with brown eyes?) and silently asked her if she was willing to do this. Lady's choice, right? I only needed to see a slight glimmer of acceptance in Melody's eyes, and she in mine, for us to nod affirmatively at Neal. The fact that we nodded perfectly in sync was completely accidental.

Neal waved a hand at the bathroom, indicating that I should go in. I squeezed Melody's hand, then let go and walked into the bathroom as if I were going to battle for my life against a ferocious beast. I might as well have been.

It took all my focus to keep my hand from shaking as I closed the bathroom door between us. It was just a flimsy piece of wood; either Melody or I could break it down anytime we felt like it. The door was only closed and in one piece because we were allowing it to be. We used to be pirates for God's sake, we handled dangers worse than doors. Melody would be exactly where I'd been: right outside the door. I turned around and faced the shower.

Curiously, I approached the shower, and tried to remember what Neal had shown Melody and I about how to use it. I tapped at the knobs. Nothing happened. I tried pulling on them. Again, nothing happened. _Something about turning them, I think . . ._

I gave the knob a twist, and jumped back when the water turned on. It was cool at first, then warmed up. _The water changes temperature, too? This world is strange._ I then realized I was still fully dressed, and slithered out of my grimy clothes to step into the shower.

The water was so pleasantly warm that I was content to stand in it and enjoy its heat for a minute before I actually began using the shampoo and conditioner to scrub centuries worth of dirt and grime out of my dark brown locks. The water running down the drain was almost perfectly brown.

Staring at the shower tiles, I began to wonder what had caused Melody to break down in here earlier. Probably, like me, she'd been thinking about mum and dad. _We're so far from home now. Would they be proud of us, for surviving in this strange place?_

After a few minutes, I was forced to step out of the shower. My skin felt tender and slightly raw from having not been scrubbed thoroughly in so long. Neal's towels were soft and fluffy, a totally foreign experience for me. Now that the shower water was no longer running, I could hear Melody talking with Neal outside the door if I was very quiet. By the way she sometimes paused the conversation to just sit in silence for a few seconds, I guessed she was checking to hear me as well. It comforted me in a way that made me feel like someone had wrapped my heart in a thick blanket.

When I had dried off, I folded my towel on top of the toilet and slipped back into my clothes, which now felt offensively heavy with dirt and grime. Compared to Neal's fluffy blue bath towels, the material of my shirt and trousers was rough and scratched at my tender skin.

I was anxious to get back to my sister, but the mirror above the sink caught my eye as I reached for the door handle. Pausing and backtracking about half a step, I stood on my tiptoes so that I could see myself in the mirror a little better. Grinning, I waggled my eyebrows at myself and struck a pose or two. It'd been so long since I had access to a mirror that I simply couldn't refuse such a blatant opportunity to admire my devilishly handsome face.

At the right angle, I looked almost identical to my dad, except for a few minor changes. I had my mum's nose. And curse my brown eyes. Why couldn't I have blue like the rest of- like Melody?

"You're still pretty fecking handsome," I reminded my reflection. My reflection grinned at me. Something told me Neal wasn't learned in the language of pirates, and therefore wouldn't be able to scold me for using all the vulgarity I felt like.

Now that my ego was sufficiently satiated, I pushed down the door handle, cool air rushing in from the hallway outside.

"Jack!" Before I could even begin to prepare myself, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around my neck in a suffocatingly tight choke hold- er, "hug." I patted her on the back soothingly. "Neal was telling me about clothes he could give us, so we don't have to wear these bloody ugly rags any longer."

"Hell yeah," I cheered in response as Neal scrambled to his feet, a smile playing at his lips now that the two of us were relatively calm. Shame burned me up inside; I hardly knew the man, and yet, I was perfectly fine with blubbering all over him. There was something about him that allowed a certain casualty, and I felt surprisingly comfortable around him. Almost like I already knew him from somewhere else, or we had this special connection. Mellie had to have felt it, too.

He began to trudge along his narrow hallway, tossing over his shoulder, "Follow me, kiddos, it's time to get you some new clothes- and burn the ones you're wearing."

We chuckled at his little side remark as he led us into what presumably was his bedroom. It was a mess, more so than my old bedroom on the Jolly Roger (and that was quite a statement). This was just pathetic. Clothes were scattered all over the floor, the sheets spilled off the bed, drawers were open and threatening precariously to fall out . . .

"You could trip and die in this room, and nobody would know," remarked Mellie slyly and I bit back a snicker at Neal's abashed, playfully outraged expression.

"I resent that- don't look the gift horse in the mouth!" He began to shift through his horribly disorganized dresser and by the mischievous gleam lighting up Mellie's eyes, I just _knew_ she wasn't done.

"Did the gift horse die in here too?" she asked with a sweetly feigned innocence and this time I burst into body-encompassing laughs, unable to hold it back any longer. I missed this version of Mellie so much.

Neal halted his hasty search and crossed his arms with eyebrows raised, but he was obviously biting back a grin. For a split second, he looked _just_ like my father . . . but that was mere wish fulfillment on my part. "Kid, you want the clothes or not?"

"I don't think I want _your_ manly clothes," she quipped back and he merely rolled his eyes at her.

"Relax, my fiancée lives here, too, and she wouldn't mind if I gave you a couple things."

 _Wait, hold up- fianc_ _ée?_ "You have a fiancée?" I asked, and he nodded almost absentmindedly.

"Yep . . . here, it might be a little big, but better than whatever you're wearing now." He handed her a silky blouse, amusement lighting up his warm features. "You can wear it as a dress."

She scrunched up her nose in distaste. "I don't wear dresses. Pirates don't wear dresses. I'd be a disgrace to all pirates everywhere."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Well, good thing for you, it's just a long shirt. You can handle it. I know you can. I trust you. Well, sort of. Well, a little bit. I'll get back to you on that one."

She pouted at him, but relented when he led her back to the bathroom to put it on along with a pair of remarkably tiny shorts- still large on Mellie. Neal then passed me a pair of knee-length shorts that would work as short pants for me, and an odd, plain-looking black shirt with the letters "ACDC" spread across them. "Here, you probably don't know what heavy rock is, so hopefully this won't bother you too much." Heavy rock? I knew what that was. I wasn't an idiot. A boulder. Somehow, I didn't think that was what he meant, though.

A few minutes later, we were dressed in the big clothes, both of us needing belts wrapped around our hips to keep the shorts up. We ended up back in his living room after a little while, and I realized that whatever he wanted to tell us before, he was going to use this an opportunity.

"Look, you were telling me about your mom, and . . . what's her name?" He squirmed in his seat uncomfortably, like he really did not want to be having this conversation. Well, neither did we.

"Milah," we said softly in unison, and recognition wrote itself across his features in big bold letters. "Why?" I continued hesitantly. "Did you . . . did you know her?"

"Black curly hair, blue eyes, a whole lot of fire in her?" We nodded strongly.

He looked to be struggling with the truth, but we weren't letting him off the hook so easily. "She was my . . . sister. My big sister. You two and me," he gestured between us, "we're family."

 **A/N: Did you like it? Love it? Hate it? Let us know! Why do you think Neal lied about his familial relationship with Milah? Will the twins find out the truth?**


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